


we tried to name our babies

by miraphora



Series: Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Heroes [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraphora/pseuds/miraphora
Summary: Cassian and Jyn name their second child. Things get a little out of control.





	we tried to name our babies

_‘Then we tried to name our babies  
But we forgot all the names that   
The names we used to know.   
…  
Then we think of our parents,   
Well what ever happened to them?’_

_\- arcade fire neighborhood #1_

_11 ABY_

They argue about names in a way they hadn’t with Jeron.

Jeron, first born, after nearly two years, after Jyn had stopped tracking her cycles in her datapad, thinking it was just as well, because what did she know about raising a child? Jeron had been a surprise, and holding him for the first time had been so tremulous, so fraught, and he had felt like hope. They had given him their fathers’ names--men who had both been passionate for their causes, who had loved their families and honored them in the only way they knew how.

Their daughter was tiny, red and wrinkled, and screaming with fury, with life. She felt like home.

“Alma Amparo,” Cassian says. He’s hesitant, but she can feel the need radiating off of him, and she looks up into his dark eyes--his mother’s eyes. Her name, her eyes, they’re the only things he remembers.

“Alma Amparo. I like it,” Jyn says, with finality.

“Alma Amparo Lyra Andor Erso,” Cassian counters firmly.

Jyn splutters. “You can’t just keep adding names! Look at her! She’s so tiny, she shouldn’t have to carry all of our baggage around!”

“It’s not baggage, it’s _history_ ,” he insists.

She opens her mouth to argue again, but he says, quickly, intently, placing his hand on hers, where she holds Alma’s tiny fist: “It’s important.”

She presses her lips tight together, feeling a sharp prick of tears burn her eyes. _Hormones_ , she thinks. She leans forward over her daughter--their daughter--tiny, soft, fragile but already a fighter. Rests her forehead against his, closes her eyes.

“Alright,” she agrees softly. “You’re right.”

Her lips quirk sharply and she adds: “But we’re all out of martyrs and heroes. If we have any more, we’ll have to name them after scoundrels.”

“Absolutely not,” he says, voice resolute, but he’s grinning.

**Author's Note:**

> And now I’m imagining a scene that might have happened years earlier, before Scarif, probably on the U-wing en route to Eadu, where Jyn snaps at Cassian finally and is like: “That’s not my name anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. Stop calling me that” or something to that effect, and Cassian is taken aback because after compiling her dossier, he’d been certain she was like him, with nothing of her past but a name, and that she’d want to cling to that.
> 
> And he says something like “Isn’t it the name your parents gave you?”
> 
> And she just gives him this long look, and then turns her back on him, to return to the side of the Guardians. Tossing over her shoulder, as she goes: “Maybe you wear your name like a talisman, Captain, but I’d rather have a warm blaster any day.”
> 
> It’s a lie, like so many others she’s told over the years. She wears her talisman around her neck and always has. The name was too dangerous to treasure.


End file.
